I Bet You Can't Fall In Love
by JustADoll
Summary: An overused plotline, I know, but a bet is made between the Slytherins but it turns a little sour, in a good way. M for later chapters. DMHG!
1. Prologue

_I'm not posting all of this yet, this is just the prologue bit, to introduce you to the story. Call it a blurb. _

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"I tell you what." Blaise Zabini stretched lazily across the double seat and looked across the compartment. "It's our last year at Hogwarts. Why don't we make it interesting?"

Draco Malfoy raised his swirling blue gray eyes to meet Zabini's black ones, pulling his arm out from where it had been slung around Pansy Parkinson's squared shoulders. "What were you thinking?"

Blaise raised one perfectly arced eyebrow. "I was thinking we make a bet."

"A bet?" Draco's eyes glittered in interest.

"Yeah." Confirmed Blaise. "I bet you you can't make a girl fall in love with you, and I mean completely head-over-heals in love with you by the end of this year."

Draco sneered, utterly unimpressed. "You're kidding, right? You think that pitiful excuse for a bet is going to spice up this pointless year?" He laughed. "At least give me a challenge. I have far better things I could be doing this year, far better things." The hint he made was apparent to everyone in the area, eyes filled with awe as they watched.

Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy and the other Slytherins in the compartment joined in their leaders laughter until Blaise, pretending to wipe a tear of mirth from his eye, stopped laughing and spoke once more. "I haven't said which girl yet."

The rest of the compartment's occupants fell quiet, a slight tension creeping across the room, as the two Slytherin gods faced one another, neither with a hint of hilarity on their face. "I bet you can't make a _mudblood_ fall in love with you." Blaise whispered, a sick grin creasing his chiseled dark features. "I bet you can't make _Granger_ fall in love with you." There was an approving moan of glee from the onlookers as they waited to hear Draco's answer.

The corner of Draco's mouth twitched into his trademark smirk. "You're on." The compartment clapped. "What do you get out of this?"

"One hundred galleons if you fail." Blaise suggested rubbing his chin. "Just to add the the simple satisfaction of watching you fail."

* * *

_Yes, it's very short. It's a prologue type bit. Oh well, look out for the rest when I post it. A few plot suggestions would be appreciated as I alwasy try my best to put them in! _

_JustADoll_

_xxx_


	2. Chapter 1

Hermione's head was already buzzing as she entered the Great Hall.

She had always secretly suspected it would be she who was made headgirl, but she hadn't been fully prepared for the responsibility that had already been set upon her.

On the train she had been asked to deal with various petty first-year duels, a task that took a lot more effort than was usually needed when dealing with older students, as these younger ones had not yet learnt the respect towards their elders like the older ones had.

She had been told she was to attend a meeting with Professor Dumbledore once dinner was over, and that, during dinner, it was up to her and the headboy, Ernie Macmillan to ensure no "riots of any sort" broke out.

This was only a small section of the list of things Professor McGonagall had already asked her to do and Hermione repeated the full list to herself as she, Harry and Ron strode up the Great Hall and took their seats at the Gryffindor house table.

"Good holiday?" Seamus Finnigan leant over the table to address her. She nodded. "See you made headgirl, thought you would, of course. Well done."

Hermione turned to Harry and Ron, who were both staring fixedly at their plates, desperate, she knew, for food to appear. "I'd have thought you'd have learnt by now, gawping at your plates will not make them fill any sooner. We have to watch the sorting first." They grumbled hungrily, and Hermione smiled.

"So, uh, Hermione, you look… well." Dean Thomas told her shyly. Hermione blinked in surprise.

"Well thank you, Dean." He grinned sheepishly. It was no secret amongst the boys that Dean was beginning to harbor something of a crush on Hermione.

The chatter of the hall fell silent as Dumbledore got to his feet. "Welcome, welcome, welcome!" He called over the dying strains of conversation. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. We will, of course begin with the traditional sorting ceremony. I ask you all to please treat new students with the utmost respect and kindness."

The doors at the back of the hall flew open, and the crowd of first year students marched through.

The sorting was long this year. Ministry regulations had made magical education compulsory, and only now were the affects clear. Hermione ignored Harry and Ron's hungry moaning as she sat and politely applauded each student as they took their seats at the new house tables. It was up to her to set the perfect example.

Dumbledore stood once more as the final student sat down at the Hufflepuff house table. "Before I bore you all with rules and regulations, I invite you to eat and drink and enjoy the many splendors Hogwarts has to offer." He sat down to a resounding applause, and the school cheered as the golden plates filled with mountains of food.

Hermione filled her plate and began to eat. This time it was unsociable sounds of food demolition she had to ignore.

She found her eyes drawn to the Slytherin table, as they so often were, checking on what Malfoy and his followers were up to. She got a very great surprise. Her dark brown eyes met Malfoy's bright aquamarine ones and he smiled at her. Hermione looked around to see who it was behind her he could possibly be smiling at, but there was no one. She pulled her most disgusted look in return and turned back to her table.

"Whole buncha new Gryffindors this year! Did you notice?" Harry asked her, having temporarily set down his cutlery as he massaged his stomach.

"Yes, that is generally what sorting is all about, Harry. New students arrive and some get put into Gryffindor." Hermione tried to explain patiently.

"No! I know that bit! I just meant we got a quite a lot which makes a nice change." Hermione looked up the table and saw that he was right. There definitely were a larger number of new faces at the table than there had ever been in the years before.

When pudding had ended, the attention turned once more to Professor Dumbledore, who clapped his hands together merrily. "How wonderful it is to be back here! Now, I have just a few announcements to make. Firstly, Mr. Filch has told to remind you all the list of forbidden items not allowed inside the school premises is available to view in his office. Secondly, as our older students already know, no student is permitted to enter the forbidden forest." He smiled warmly down at them all.

"Thankfully, I believe that's all on the rules. We have a new staff appointment; Professor Chase will be filling the once more vacant position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I hope you will all make her feel very much welcome, and very much at home." He gestured to a small, middle-aged witch dressed in sensible navy blue robes who stood up briefly, and waved cheerfully to the mass of students.

"Now, I think that is all. Your beds await you! Prefects, kindly lead your new first years to their common rooms, headboy and girl to my office. Good night to you all." He sat back down.

There was a huge commotion as every seat in the hall was vacated, and students milled around the exit in a desperate attempt to get to their beds. Hermione followed dazedly, unable to get Malfoy's smile out of her head. She had never seen him smile before. It was kind of nice.

Why though? Why had he smiled at her? Did she have something stuck in her teeth of hair and his smile had actually just been a regular sneer?

She tried to push it to the back of her mind as she left Harry and Ron and headed towards the headmaster's office. She met up with Ernie on the corridor displaying the stone gargoyle.

"Good evening, Hermione." Greeted Ernie, his typical upper-class manner showing even through this simple pleasantry. She smiled vaguely, not wanting to strike up a forced friendship just because they were heads together. She liked Ernie well enough, but to call them friends would be pushing it.

They managed to ascend the revolving staircase in silence. When they reached the top it was Ernie who pushed open the door to Dumbledore's study. It was only then that Hermione realized this was the first time she was entering the headmaster's inner sanctum. The room buzzed with magical electricity and Hermione looked around, fascinated, at the many whirring contraptions described to her so often by Harry.

The headmaster was seated behind an ornate desk, and peered at the two students over his half moon spectacles. He smiled faintly at them and gestured for them to sit down.

Hermione perched on the edge of the cushioned chair, and waited for Dumbledore to speak.

"As I'm sure you are well aware, a few of our seventh years are joining the ranks of the deatheaters." Hermione blinked, surprised. "The Slytherins need to be carefully watched. I do not want to security of this school to be breached and students' lives to be at risk. I have already requested the help of the staff on this matter, but I would also like the pair of you, as well as any loyal friends of yours to be on the lookout as well."

He sat back in his chair. "I don't wish for this to be a priority, it is just if you notice any unusual behavior, or hear anything out of the ordinary that I implore you to tell me, or a member of staff, immediately, and encourage others to do the same."

"It is of course the students' own choice of which side to choose, but I will not risk the safety of others for the sake of a select few."

Dumbledore smile stretched. "I trust you will not disappoint me. That is all." They stood and turned to leave.

On the revolving stairway, Ernie cleared his throat. "That was… a bit much, don't you think?"

Hermione sighed. "I think it's a very important task. I agree though, it was a bit of a grim start to our duties, to know people our own age would not care if we were in danger."

They continued down in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Hermione wondered faintly if Ernie understood the importance of this as much as she did.

* * *

She found the common room deserted, people were eager to get to bed after the heavy meal in the great hall, as well as to rest up for lessons the next day. Hermione fell into a chair by the fireplace and gazed into it. Malfoy's smiling face swirled in the flames.

"It's you he means." She told it sadly. "You're the main deatheater hopeful, aren't you? You're so stupid." The flames flickered merrily and she found she couldn't look at them anymore.

* * *

The next morning found Hermione seated at the Gryffindor table cheerfully eating toast. She had already told Harry and Ron about what Dumbledore had asked of her, and they had volunteered to help spread the word to others. She felt like a leader of an elite group, though she knew she shouldn't. If this was made a priority with everybody, there would be many false alarms, she knew. People looking for trouble always found it.

"So what exactly did Dumbledore say?" Asked Harry, possibly for the hundredth time. Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"He said the Slytherins needed to be watched. That they're looking to join the deatheaters. He just asked me and Ernie to tell people to be aware, that's all." She shrugged, not wishing to make it seem like a big deal.

"So he's worried." Harry pondered over his spoonful of porridge.

Hermione scoffed uncertainly. "He's not worried Harry! I'm sure it's just something he asks every head boy and girl to look out for, you're just hearing about it for the first time now!"

"He never asked Percy to do it." Ron broke in. He took a mouthful of toast and continued talking without swallowing first. "If he had then Percy would have turned it into like a military operation and we were in our third year then, we'd have heard."

"Well then it's just because we've got idiots like Malfoy in our year." Hermione said. "Dumbledore specifically requested for this not to be a big deal so can the two of you please just respect that and leave it alone?"

Her two friends agreed, but she could tell it wasn't over.

Professor McGonagall was stood over her, and dropped a piece of parchment in front of Hermione. She tapped the parchment with her wand, and a week's timetable spread across it.

Harry peered over her shoulder. "You've got Potions first? I don't have it till third." He looked over to see Ron's timetable. "Neither does Ron."

"I am taking advanced Potions, the two of you are not. It does make sense when you think about it." She pointed out.

Harry shrugged. "Well, see you later then, got to get to charms!" He tugged at Ron's collar and the two of them left the great hall, leaving Hermione gazing over to the Slytherin where, once again, Draco Malfoy's smile had caught her eye.

Hermione found the corridor outside the potions classroom empty and it didn't make her feel at ease to think she may be taking these classes alone. She lent against the cold stonewall and breathed deeply, still unable to get the image of Malfoy's face out of her mind.

There were footsteps behind her and she turned to see a knot of Slytherins approaching, Malfoy leading the way. He dropped the smirk on his face as soon as he saw her, and relaxed into an almost pleasant look.

"You've got to be kidding me." Hermione breathed.

He sidled up beside her and a mass of amused whispering broke out amongst his five cronies.

"Good to see you, Granger." He crooned, and it made Hermione feel slightly nauseous. She sniffed dismissively, and the door to the classroom swung open.

Made for the desk at the front, knowing there was no way Draco Malfoy would ever be caught sitting at the front, but he followed her.

Draco smirked behind Hermione back and his friends egged him on. He left them behind and took a seat beside her. He felt her cringe and smiled.

"So." He began. "How was your summer?" Hermione looked at him in angry confusion.

"What are you doing? Just leave me alone."

Snape cleared his throat loudly. "Quiet please in my classroom." The lesson began.

"Why is it so hard for you to comprehend the possibility that I want to get to know you?" Draco asked with interest as he crushed ingredients for their silencing solution.

Hermione pushed her hair behind her ears and glared at him over her steaming cauldron. "Because I know it's an act. To you, I'm nothing but a muggleborn, and to me, you're nothing but a ferrety prat."

Draco blanched involuntarily. He gawped at her, unable to think of a way to drag himself out of this situation. Concentrating on his potion seemed like the cleverest thing to do.

The lesson dragged on, and Hermione left it feeling hot and irritated. How dare he manipulate her like that? She strode purposefully away from the classroom towards the transfiguration room, and vowed never to speak to Draco Malfoy again.

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_Thought I'd upload this a little earlier than planned. _

_Please Review!_

_JustADoll_

_xxx_


	3. Chapter 2

"Well, that was a great success, congratulations, Draco." Sang Blaise, sarcastically.

Pansy Parkinson looked up from the book she had been reading, and pouted in what she must have thought was a pretty way. "What happened Draco?"

"Sir Draco failed miserably in his attempts to win fair mudblood over." Blaise teased, dancing around them happily. Draco smirked as he watched his friend twirl.

"I did not fail, I just got off to a bad start." He said, sitting down beside Pansy and allowing her to snuggle into his chest. He patted her on the head faintly. Her jet-black cropped hair tickled as she wriggled in his arms.

"My poor Draco." Pansy murmured, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time and stroking the exposed skin tenderly. "Having to get all cozy with the mudblood filth." Blaise raised his eyebrows at Draco, a silent question over whether he had permission to stay where he was while so much of Draco's flesh was becoming exposed. He shrugged. It was Blaise's choice.

"You're telling me, Petal." Draco sighed.

Pansy giggled at the nickname. "It's such a stupid bet, Blaise. It's disgusting. Why can't you call it off?" She batted her lashes at him imploringly, but it only made Blaise grin malevolently.

"I'm not calling it off! One hundred galleons are going to be mine, and I get to watch everything! It's one of the best bets I've ever made." Pansy patted the small empty space beside her on the battered dark green silk sofa and Blaise seated himself a little nervously. Pansy swiftly turned her attention from Draco's buttons to Blaise's. Blaise gulped.

Pansy smiled at him innocently. "I could make it worth your while." She breathed.

"Pansy, you're disgusting." Proclaimed Draco in amusement, and he stood up and began to dress himself once again.

"I'm just doing it for you." Pansy told him. "I would do anything for you."

Draco sneered. "Why don't I leave you to concentrate on amusing Blaise, whilst I go and seek out my filthy blooded prey?" He turned and sauntered out of the Slytherin common room, leaving Pansy straddling a very anxious Zabini.

* * *

Being a seventh year was great, Draco had found. Being a seventh year prefect was even better. He could basically do what the hell he liked, and nobody would contradict him, no one except Granger.

He strutted to the library only too aware of the darting glossy eyed look many of the girls gave him as he passed. Draco laughed evilly as one girl actually dropped her books as he walked by her. God, it was fun to be him.

He approached the library confidently. It was time to turn up the charm to its highest level. She would not be able to resist.

Draco spotted Hermione sat at a table on her own.

The setting sunlight poured in on her, making the curls of her hair shine prettily. Her face glowed with an angelic radiance. Draco shook himself furiously. What was he thinking?

Confidence severely shaken, he walked up to her. It was only when he was a foot from her that she looked up at him. Her face fell in disgust, and she turned straight back to the open book in front of her.

Taking it as a… sign of some sort. Draco sat himself down in the wooden seat opposite her. He watched as she tried to read agitatedly. Eventually she gave up, and slammed the book shut.

"What? What do you want?" She demanded.

Draco tried to fashion his face into a smile but her tone was not one he was used to. "Just wanted to talk, that's all."

"What about? I have nothing to say to you." She told him.

Draco tried to think fast. There really was nothing he could say he needed to talk to her about except, "Snape's homework!" He cried, probably a little too enthusiastically. "I could use some help with the potions homework."

Hermione raised her eyebrow suspiciously. "You're good at potions, better than I am…"

"There's really no need for flattery."

Hermione's nostrils flared in a way not dissimilar from Professor McGonagall. "I wasn't trying to flatter you, it's simply a fact. You are equal to if not better than me at potions." She said through gritted teeth.

Draco fought very hard to hide his irritation. "Well… I just wanted to make sure I was on the right lines, you know how it is, sometimes you can write the best piece of work but it's nothing like what the teacher wanted…?" His heart racing relaxed a little as he saw her expression soften just a bit.

"I can't say it's ever happened to me, but I see where you're coming from. Have you bought your work with you then?" She asked, eyeing him as if he were supposed to be able to make a roll of parchment materialize out of nowhere, which he could have, if there had been a roll of parchment with his potions work on it to summon.

"Uh, no, I thought we could just share ideas." He tried.

Hermione narrowed her dark eyes at him, and he clung on desperately to the smile he was still displaying. "Why can't you do this with Zabini or one of your other followers?"

Thinking on ones feet when being interrogated by someone as shrewd as Granger was not easy, even for someone with experience of interrogation by deatheaters. "I… They aren't as clever as you are, I thought I'd get a better idea of the task if I talked to you about it."

"Fine." Hermione said, finally giving in. So her plan to ignore him hadn't lasted long. What plan to blank somebody ever did? The more you want to avoid someone, the more they tended to seek you out.

As they sat and discussed the pros and cons of using sleeping solutions in everyday life, Draco began to realize something very strange. They were having a real conversation.

"But the after effects of the solution could be catastrophic in the long term." Hermione pointed out.

Draco arched his long fingers and rested his chin on them. "Maybe, but it's never been proven that it has any effect at all."

"Everybody who has used it on a day to day basis has died prematurely!" Hermione said, and she laughed, a real, natural laugh, and it made the hairs on the backs of Draco's hand prickle.

He cleared his throat. None of his friends were ever going to hear about that particular sensation. "But they never found the solution to be the cause, it could have just been coincidence that they all died early."

"Maybe, but it surely makes more sense to look at the statistics!" Hermione scoffed.

They continued to battle it out for another half an hour, and by the end of it, Draco's mind was buzzing with ideas. Though getting inspiration hadn't been his reason for going, the discussion with Hermione had suddenly made him feel he could write the best essay he'd ever written.

"Thank you." He said sincerely as he stood up to leave. "That um… really helped." He stuck his hand in the pockets of his robes.

She picked up her books and stuffed them haphazardly into her bag, he couldn't help but notice that she was blushing a little, and tried to hide his smirk as he realized that maybe his plan had worked after all.

It took only a millisecond for him to realize that the meeting was not yet over. She shrugged her bag over her shoulder, and they departed from the library together.

"So…" He started, not really knowing what to say.

"Why are you suddenly being nice to me?" She cut in. It was obviously a question she'd been dying to ask for sometime.

Draco felt his mouth open and close a few times before the sense to keep it shut set in. "I… you just interest me is all."

She stopped and looked at him. He backed up a few steps to look back. "I interest you? Does that mean I'm a target?"

"A target?" Draco asked, genuinely confused.

"I know you're a deatheater." She told him. "I saw the mark on your arm."

Draco couldn't help it, he sneered. "And you think we'd waste our time on mudbloods like you?" He saw her recoil, and, though he didn't understand why, he felt just a tremor of guilt.

"There was no need for that." She whispered, clearly hurt. She swept away, not waiting for him to keep up.

"Damn." Draco stamped his foot in frustration. He had been so close. He marched back towards his common room. He'd never admit it to anybody but himself, but there was more to his disappointment than mere association with the bet. He had lost control with her, and he had hurt her, and for some reason, this was more painful than the thought of losing a hundred galleons.

There had just been something about her. Something in the way she'd talked, the way she could hold up an argument with him when so few others could.

He pushed through the entrance to the common room to find a trail of clothes leading up to the dormitory he shared with Blaise.

"Great." He muttered. "Just sodding great." He picked up each article of clothing as he climbed the stairs, and prayed they'd be done when he opened the door.

Thankfully they were, curled around one another on Blaise's bed. Draco dumped the pile of clothes on the floor beside the bed, and undressed.

"She's nothing but a mudblood know-it-all." He told himself over and over again as he lay in bed, mind racing with images of Hermione smile. "But she can handle you. You have to respect her for that." A tiny part of his brain argued. "I'm only doing this for a bet." The larger part of his brain pointed out. "Yes." The smaller part said. "And no. You have to admit, we're curious."

Curious. Was that all it was? He breathed a sigh of relief because, for a second he'd been scared it was attraction.

* * *

"Potions again?" Hermione growled down at her timetable as she sat at the Gryffindor table. "I hate only studying four subjects."

"You're only doing four?" Ron asked, spoon halfway to his mouth, dripping milk into his lap. "I'd have thought you'd be taking like ten and just not telling us about the others."

She gave him her most sarcastic look and turned to see Dean looking at her. She blinked a few times. "Yes, Dean?" She asked, starting to get unnerved.

He looked startled. "Oh, I'm… sorry." He said, turning his attention embarrassedly back to his cereal.

She refused to make the check over to the Slytherin table as she had done the day before. Instead she kept her eyes fixed firmly in front of her, and did not let them wonder. Hermione waited until Ron and Harry had finished and they departed together for their first classes. She left them as she turned off towards the dungeons while they ascended the stairs on their way to defense against the dark arts.

She muttered darkly to herself as she approached the potions classroom and saw Malfoy stood there alone. Waiting for her. Her pace instinctively slowed.

He waved at her a little shyly. Shyness was not something one commonly saw on Malfoy, and it made Hermione think twice before she ignored him.

Hermione stayed on the other side of the door to Malfoy, and refused to look his way, even when he began to speak to her.

"Listen." He began, and cleared his throat noisily, trying to make her look at him. "I'm sorry for what I said last night..."

"Don't be. You just confirmed everything I always believed about you, that you're nothing but heartless deatheater scum." His mouth dropped open.

"Cheap shot." He muttered.

"But it's true." She pointed out, finally turning to face him. "I mean, why? Why is it that right when I start to believe maybe there is a glimmer of hope for you, you go and wreck it?"

He shrugged. "Don't know." Draco spotted his friends coming towards them and stepped up to Hermione. She backed against the wall, eyes widening in fear. "So, um. Glad we got that sorted." He said huskily. She looked up at him, confused, but it had satisfied his friends. They gave a shout of wolf whistles and applause and went into the classroom.

* * *

_Thank you for the lovely reviews, as always. Anna, you are such a good reviewer, I love getting them! So join the craze everybody and get reviewing!_

_JustADoll_

_xxx_


	4. Chapter 3

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Thank you for the support, guys. I realize I've actually been gone for far too long. I wasn't planning being away for so long. It all sort of settled down a while ago, but I've been soo busy with school work, and have had some minor depression to get through. An essay a week! What is the psychology department thinking?! No wonder I have no life anymore. Anyway, this chapter is not so long as I'm sort of having to wok up to writing long ones again.

* * *

"You're moving in a bit quick aren't you, Dra?" Blaise leaned in across the table and murmured to Draco. "We've only been back two days and you've already got her pressed against a wall."

The other Slytherins tittered. "I gave you all year, I don't want you to rush things."

Draco sneered, his lip curling. "How about we shorten the time, make this interesting bet even more interesting." The surrounding Slytherin louts leaned in closely over the common room table. "Christmas." He said. "I bet I can do it by Christmas."

Blaise laughed hollowly. "You're on. Again."

"And if I do it." Draco smirked. "You've got to run through Hogsmeade, completely naked." Blaise's jaw dropped. "Too chicken?" Draco asked.

"Fine." Blaise grumbled.

* * *

It was lunchtime when Hermione heard the news. "There's a bet amongst the Slytherins." Ron announced through a mouthful of shepherd's pie. Hermione raised her eyebrows, inviting him to elaborate. "Don't know what the stakes for Malfoy are, but I heard it involves Zabini running butt naked through Hogsmeade if Malfoy does it."

Hermione nearly choked on her pumpkin juice. "Zabini naked?"

"You interested?" Harry accused, his fork half way to his mouth.

Hermione shrugged, swiftly averting her eyes. "I'm not saying I like him as a person, that's just disgusting, but I'm a girl, and his body is certainly…" She trailed off as Ron and Harry both snorted.

"So how's Lavender?" Hermione asked above the noise. It had the desired effect, and Ron instantly fell silent. His gaze fell to his pie, and he remained silent for the rest of the meal.

* * *

"Hey, Granger." Hermione grudgingly swung around and faced Draco. It'd been nearly a week since they had last spoken, and the time leading up till the Christmas holidays seemed to be creeping forward suspiciously quickly in Draco's opinion.

"What?" She asked, jaw clenched, unwilling to give him anything to that he could play off.

Draco was unsurprised by her reaction. He himself had not quite planned "what" yet. He stood before her, and allowed himself a quick darting look up and down her body before thinking of an answer.

She crossed her arms across her chest, and he felt his cheeks redden slightly. "I just, um, wondered how you are. How you're enjoying term so far?" He felt his toes curl at just the feel of his lips sounding those jovial words.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, everything about her body language screamed suspicion, and it nearly ripped a grin from Draco's lips. They weren't really so different.

He now saw that both of them mistrusted everything without solid proof of its honesty. Both cared beyond reason about anything that passed that test. And probably most important, in Draco's opinion at least, both were damn attractive.

"It's fine." She replied stiffly.

"Listen, I know we got off to a somewhat questionable start this year."

"This year?" She cut in, eyebrows raised.

"Ok." He admitted. "Not just this year, but, well, I'm trying to make an effort here, surely you can see that?"

She tensed, and he wondered if maybe that had been too blatant. "Yes." She murmured. "I've noticed. I just thought this was some new tactic you were trying out." She tried to move around his, but he darted right in front of her once more, blocking her path. He saw the alarm in her face, and tried at a sheepish grin. It felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable on his lips.

"Malfoy, I need to get to my common room."

"Then let me walk with you." Draco insisted.

"I really don't think…"

"What harm will it do?"

Hermione sighed helplessly, and flung her bag at him. He caught it with some bewilderment. "If you're going to insist on coming, you're going to have to make yourself useful."

The bag was unnaturally heavy, and Draco could understand why she'd been keen to take any chance she could to get rid of it. Even the weight of her bag added to the weight of his, did not really bother Draco, who lifted it with ease, and slung it over his shoulder.

Hermione stretched her arms out wide, and rolled her shoulder's back with relief. Draco couldn't help but glance over at her chest. Not bad at all.

They walked in silence up the first flight of stairs. The silence wasn't exactly comfortable, but neither really felt that conversation was necessary. Hermione strolled along, still happy to be free of the weight of the bag that had been holding approximately an eighth of the library inside it.

Draco on the other hand, was desperately wracking his brains for something clever and inviting he could say when they parted ways. It was difficult. Before this year he'd have sworn otherwise, but he really did not know Hermione Granger very well at all. He had no idea what her interests were, besides books, and saving the world.

"I think I can manage from here." Hermione said, holding out her arms to take her bag. Draco handed it to her, and she turned and walked up the third flight of stairs. The moment was gone.

Hermione pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady to see Ron and Harry sat over a chessboard by the fire. She walked over to them, and managed to create a loud enough noise by dropping her bag to make them both jump.

"Something really quite peculiar just happened." She told them. Flopping down in one of the armchairs.

"Oh really?" Asked Ron sarcastically, still red around the ears from his embarrassment at having jumped so high at Hermione's bag hitting the ground.

"Go on, Hermione." Harry urged, kicking Ron's ankles.

Hermione chuckled. "Well, it's this whole business with Malfoy." She began.

"This whole "I am reformed and want to know you" thing he has going on with you at the minute?" Ron asked.

"That's it. I just… I don't know if I should be taking this seriously or not."

Harry sat back in his chair, gazing into the fire thoughtfully. "How do you mean"

"I don't know." She admitted. "I don't know whether this is what Dumbledore was warning me against. This odd behavior, from the Slytherins…"

"That's got to be it!" Ron exclaimed, sitting up straight, eyes wide with excitement. "He must be plotting something!"

"That's just it though. I'm not sure he is." Hermione sighed, causing Ron's excitement to ebb a little. "I mean, what great plan could come of him just talking to me a little? Maybe he just genuinely wants to have a go at being a good guy for a change."

"I think you're being a bit naïve about this, Hermione." Harry's eyes pierced her almost painfully, and she felt herself wince involuntarily.

She heaved a sigh. "Maybe you're right, but I see no harm in at least giving him a shot, and you're both here to look out for me?"

"I think you're making a big mistake." Ron muttered, hunched down in his chair, the firelight reflecting across his flaming hair.

"But we're always here for you." Harry smiled at her, and leant forward to take her fingers in his. "It's your decision. If you think he's trustworthy then, even though I can't say I approve, you should try trusting him."

* * *

_God, things I do for you lot. I know it's not very long, nowhere near as long as you all deserve. Give me a few days and I'll write you a really long chapter. This is just to let you know I'm BACK! There may also be a "e He" missing from somewhere... I found it randomly placed and can't find where it's come from!_

_Please review!_

_JustADoll_

_xxx_


	5. Chapter 4

_I have been told to disclaim. _

_I am not JK Rowling, so do not have the pleasure of being able to call these characters or settings my own. _

_Carrying on..._

_

* * *

_

"Malfoy." The voice was vaguely familiar, but Draco had trouble placing it. Pansy? No, it was nowhere near shrill enough. Then who –

He turned and was very surprised to see Hermione clambering gracefully up the stairs to catch up with him. Thank Merlin he was alone.

"Mind if I walk with you?" She asked, not meeting his eye. He could see that she was expecting him to say no. Expecting him to turn on her right when she'd opened herself up to him, just as he'd done before.

"Sure." He replied, and turned back to the stairs.

Hermione's mind raced with the question of what to say. She knew a "chat" was in order. There was no way she completely trusted Draco, and she was certainly going to let him know that, but she was giving him a chance, and felt he had the right to know.

She pushed him into an empty classroom at the top of the stairs and closed the door behind them. She swiftly strode to the front of the room, which was dimly lit by a single stuttering candle, stone walled and far too dark for a third floor room, and sat herself down on a desk in a "no-nonsense" manner, and indicated Draco do the same. He watched her face, bemusedly as he sat himself down, pleased he was not in a rush to be anywhere, he had a feeling this was going to be something of a stride in his quest to win his bet.

He watched as she took a great sigh, working herself up to saying whatever it was she needed to say.

"Draco." She began. He raised one eyebrow in surprise, _Draco? _"I don't know what you're playing at, but I really hope it's nothing because, for some insane reason I seem to have completely lost my mind and have convinced myself you're being civil to me because you want to turn over a new leaf." She gushed, still refusing to meet his eye.

Draco was not quite sure what to say. He could tell he was making her uncomfortable, not answering like this, but he was torn. Of course there was no chance he wanted to "turn over a new leaf" as she so naively put it, but, for some reason, a small part of his mind was battling for him to say yes, and mean it.

"It's good of you to have some faith in me. I think that's all I needed." The words tasted sour on his lips, and he could tell he'd gone too far. She looked skeptical as she pushed herself off the desk, and landed daintily on her toes.

"Well, good. Just… don't make me look stupid, ok?" She turned her back to him, and strode past out of the classroom.

"Crap." Draco moaned. What was the matter with him? This was supposed to ridiculously simple! Lie in whatever way was necessary to get Granger to fall in love with him, so why was it so painful?

"I must be tired." Draco muttered to himself. He closed his eyes. An image of Hermione stood in front of him, her uniform surely more revealing than it was in real life, flashed in front of his closed eyes. "I must be _really_ tired."

It was true that it was late, and as Draco marched down the stairs to the Slytherin dungeon common room, he heard the clock strike ten. The common room itself was barely lit; the unusual fire that glowed green in the grate was dying, as only a few students remained there to keep it alive. Blaise was there though, and Draco considered going across to him, boasting about his success with Hermione, but it didn't feel right somehow, and he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he walked straight past, and climbed the steep narrow steps to his dormitory.

His corner of the long, low ceiling room was the only area unblemished by posters of half naked witches, lounging seductively, and giggling and shifting uncomfortably in feigned embarrassment whenever somebody looked at them. It was cheap, in Draco's opinion. To cover ones walls with pictures of such kind was almost as good as casting a banner over ones head reading, "I'm not getting any!"

He smirked at his chain of thoughts. It was true that his negligence of this common trend amongst the older Slytherin boys had earned him nothing but respect amongst his fellows. It was something they were unable to put their fingers on, a detail so small that they were could not pin it down, but Draco knew that was one of the reasons that he was one of the most highly respected students in the school.

That was, of course, only part of it, mused Draco, as he flopped down onto his neatly made bed, and positioned himself with great care so as not to disturb the sheets before it was needed.

His reputation played a large part in it as well. He was the well known son of a well known deatheater, and, though the vast majority of this school viewed this as something to be ashamed of, he knew it also created a secret sense of awe around him.

He was also, though it was not as widely known, an excellent student. All right, so he wasn't always on time with his essays, but what he wrote was good, and he flew through exams without even needing to pick up a book.

Nobody could doubt he was destined for greatness. "But I'd give it up for you." He breathed. He sat up. Unsure of what he had just said. "Who…?" He racked his brains. Something, or rather someone, was on his mind, and he didn't even know who it was.

Surely the mind should not be able to trick like this. To stir up such feelings without even offering an explanation was simply cruel. Draco sat back and cursed his mind for being so infuriating.

"It will pass." He assured himself. "It will pass."

* * *

_I KNOW THIS CHAPTER IS SHORT! It's a mini-inbetweeny sort of chapter! Read Act 2 scenes 3 and 4 of Antony and Cleopatra. Shakespeare had mini-inbetweeny bits too! Not comparing myself to Shakespeare, as, let's face it, that's just idiotic. So yeah, don't review saying "This was a really short chapter" because I know it is. I wrote it. But I have very little time at the minute, so if I'm going to update, just for now, it's going to have to be with mini chapters._

_Love you all_

_Please review (kindly)_

_xxx_


	6. Chapter 5

_I have decided this is going to be the fic where I aim to get over 200 reviews. I was so close on "When it all goes wrong" with 190! Ahh! So yeah, get reviewing people!

* * *

_

The mirror is always a cruel thing, Hermione considered as she stared at her reflection. It was never truly going to show you what you so wanted to see.

"It's no wonder boys don't even notice." She muttered. She straightened out the front of her shirt. It wasn't that she was bad looking, she thought, she just wasn't so good looking so as to attract attention.

Distantly she could hear someone calling her name. Giving up on the mirror, she left the room.

Ron and Harry were stood in the common room beneath her, and gave exaggerated waves of joy upon seeing her as she descended the narrow stairway. "Finally." Ron breathed. "We've been calling a good five minutes."

"A whole five minutes of your lives wasted on me? Oh, Ronald, I am sorry." Hermione muttered sarcastically. "Why are you waiting for me anyway?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, his eyes fixed on his feet. Ron however, looked stern. "We just heard Malfoy in the great hall talking with those followers of his."

"And?" Hermione interjected. "He has a right to talk, does he not?"

"It wasn't so much that he was talking, Hermione." Harry pointed out. "It was the words coming out of his sour and shriveled mouth that were bothering us."

"Slimy little git." Ron exclaimed.

Hermione sighed. "Well are you going to tell me what he said, or am I just here for you to vent all your frustration onto?"

Ron rounded on her. "He was talking about you, Hermione." Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "Going on about how you'd told him you were going to give him a chance and whatever other rubbish you fed him."

Hermione was confused. "What's wrong with that?" She directed her question at Harry, feeling that any response she got from Ron would probably be incomprehensible.

"He was laughing about it." Harry explained calmly.

Hermione felt her heart sink. How idiotic she had been. Everything had told her she had been wrong to put faith in Malfoy, but still something had told her it was ok. What had it been, to make her go against everything she knew like that? Plain stupidity? A curse of some sort? Or something else?

She sighed heavily, and all the energy sleep should have given her faded away. She felt heavy, and relief rushed through her as she collapsed into an armchair. Thank goodness it was Saturday. Lessons required energy, energy Hermione wasn't sure she could muster right now.

"So…" She began, as Harry and Ron settled themselves beside her. "He just laughed at the fact I'd given him a chance?" She confirmed.

Ron sniffed. "I told you it was a daft thing to do."

"Yes, thank you, Ron." Harry murmured, delivering a swift blow to his friend's ribs.

As Ron doubled over in exaggerated agony, Hermione turned her attention to Harry. "Do you think it was a daft thing to do?"

She noticed that he took a great deal of time to consider his answer. "I think…" He paused, and she knew he was not about to give her a straight answer. "I thought you'd see something in him that maybe wasn't there."

"It was there." She said, a little huffily. "He was trying. I'm sure of it. It's because he was with his friends…"

"Don't try and justify -"

"I'm not trying to justify anything, Ron." Hermione snapped. "I'm just telling you what I think, and what I think is that the Draco we know is just a face put on for his friends, his reputation, and the Draco I've been catching glimpses of this year is the real thing." She got her feet and stormed out of the common room.

Hermione didn't really have anywhere to go. Hadgrid's was always an option, but somehow she didn't feel like talking to anyone who would be overly sympathetic. She knew exactly who she did was want to speak to, but finding them would be difficult.

As head girl she did have the authority go into any common room she liked, but working up the nerve to do so was an altogether different matter.

Slytherin common room was in the dungeons, that much was common knowledge, but never before had Hermione needed to know any more, after the unfortunate incident with the polyjuice potion in her second year. She descended steep stone step after steep stone step down towards the dungeons. She passed by Snape's potions classrooms, and continued on passed towering suits of Armour, which peered down at her menacingly.

The light was changing, she realized as she neared what she guessed was a dead end. Obviously no sunlight shone down here, but the candlelight, which had been a cheerful dancing yellow when she has first come down, had dissolved into a diluted pale green web of light.

What now? She thought. Even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't go inside the common room. A muggleborn inside the Slytherin's lair, like a lamb in the lion's den. Plain foolish.

She sank down onto the damp flagstone floor, and pulled her knees up under her chin. Perhaps they had been right. That thought did not sit well with Hermione, she was used to Harry eventually being proved right, but not Ron.

Her head fell forward onto her knees. It was only ten o clock, and already she felt complete exhaustion overpower her.

She heard a bang above her head, and looked up just in time to see the wall in front of her closing over. Before the now blank black stonewall stood Malfoy, peering at her curiously. He seemed to be having some sort of internal argument, debating, as she'd so often suspected before, whether or not to be nice to her.

There was twinge of pleasure that Hermione felt as he crouched down to her level that she though was perhaps slightly unnecessary, but still…

"Why were you laughing at me at breakfast?" She asked timidly, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer.

It seemed to take him an age to reply, and Hermione couldn't quite bring herself to look at him.

She could hear him shuffling awkwardly, and his breathing heavy as he opened and closed his mouth, struggling intently with some reason behind his actions.

"You know, it doesn't matter." She cut in, before the silence became unbearable. "I think I know anyway." His eyes fell upon her, crystal clear and brimming with concern. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? He didn't know.

He watched her finally draw her eyes up to meet his. The light they held were enough to tell him he'd survived this episode.

She smiled weakly, and with a momentary unawareness of whom it was she was dealing with, she held out her hands, inviting him to help her up. He greeted this with enthusiasm, and gallantly pulled her to her feet, allowing her to fall into him. She blushed as she stepped back, and pushed her hair behind her ear distractedly.

"Why are you down here, Hermione?" Draco asked pointedly. Why was she down here? She didn't really know. Because she wanted answers? Because she had no one else? Because he was the only other person relevant in her present dilemma? Or all of the above? She wasn't sure. Of course, there was no way she was about to admit any of this to him.

She shrugged noncommittally. There really wasn't an excuse. Luckily he grinned. "It doesn't matter." He said, saving her. "I've been unable to answer your question, and you've been unable to answer mine. We'll call it even." He looked over his shoulder to the wall through which he had appeared only minutes before. "Perhaps we should move. I'm not sure your being here would be well appreciated with the others in there."

He tentatively pushed her lightly on the shoulder, encouraging her to turn. A shiver ran through her at his touch.

She willingly turned, and together they walked back up to the great hall in silence.

Hermione found herself pausing outside the door. "We can't go in here either really, can we?"

Malfoy shook his head and she sighed. She was desperate to speak with him, but it seemed impossible. Why she wanted to speak to him so badly, she didn't really know.

"The grounds?" She asked. She saw him tense. "What's wrong?"

"I can't do this." He muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.

"Do what?" He voice was almost as quiet.

Draco's lips barely moved as he replied. "I can't pretend this ok." He looked his lashes at her. Her expression was impossible to read. "It's not." He said, just for something to fill the silence.

"I don't understand what you're trying to say." Hermione murmured in confusion.

"I can't be friends with you." He snapped, before even considering holding his tongue.

She stood in stunned silence as he shifted his feet uncomfortably. This bloody bet. He thought. It was strange though. Before, saying something that hurtful to Granger would have been instinctively followed by a sneer or a smirk, but there was nothing.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Fine, well, if that's how you feel." She turned away, and began to head off.

She seemed to take an age to walk only a few steps. It was just long enough for something in Draco's mind to click into place.

"Hermione, wait."

* * *

_Let's get this ball rolling! I have exams after xmas, so am going to be fitting in as much writing as I can before the holidays! _

_Please review_

_xxx_


	7. Chapter 6

_Words can't express how shocked I was when I opened up yesterday and realised it's been ten months since I updated this fic. _

_Let me try and justify why I have been away so long. _

_Ok, well, sadly I had depression through November and December of last year. _

_Recovered from that and then had AS exams in January_

_School work took over through February and March_

_April I had Art deadlines. Anyone who's done Art AS with limited talent will know how awful this is. _

_May and June I had the rest of my ASs_

_July and August I was in Africa_

_And now it is September. _

_The truth is I'm a horrible person who just couldn't make time and I don't deserve to have people like you reading my stories!_

_I can only apologise and beg forgiveness. _

* * *

Hermione did not turn back. How could she? Draco's words had only confirmed for her exactly what she guess she'd been suspecting all along. Shame at her naivety, her weakness, flooded through her as she stormed back towards the castle, refusing to acknowledge Draco as he shadowed her every step, attempting to catch her attention once more.

At once she swung around, stopping Draco dead in his tracks, temporarily stunned at the ferocity on her face. "What do you mean you can't pretend this is ok? What does that even mean? How is it not ok? I've basically just played myself into your hands and now you're saying that's not what you wanted? That certainly ins one way to rub salt into the wound."

She rages at him, ignoring his attempts to interrupt until he raised his voice to her. "Just shut up for one minute, will you!?" She silenced, looking at him expectantly and he could see she desperately wanted for him to make it alright, and somehow, that was exactly what he wanted him to do as well. "My words came out wrong." He began. "I never meant to say I can't be friends with you, what I meant to say was that I don't want to be friends with you." He could hardly believe what was coming out of his mouth, and he could see the hurt welling up in her face once more. "Not _just_ friends."

His inhibitions were screaming at him to correct this godawful situation which was suddenly so far from anything he'd known before. His first thought was what his father would do if he ever heard his son talking like this to a mudblood. His second thought was somewhat more confusing, why wasn't he having just that same reaction at hearing himself talk like this to a mudblood?

Hermione scoffed, but he could see the flattered confusion in her eyes. "What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

This was his opportunity, his opportunity to rectify what had just happened. _Just make some smarmy sarcastic comment and leave! _The rational part of his brain was willing him. Instead he led Hermione beneath a tree she recognised to be the one Harry had described as his father's tree, and turned to face her.

"I don't really know what I'm doing." He admitted. "But when you came to find me just now, I started to think maybe you were feeling the same way I am and so I thought maybe I'd just come out with it." These words were sour as they spilled from his lips, and he was certain she would see the traces of a lie that must be there, but at the same time, he wasn't entirely sure what he was saying was such a terrible deceit.

She her eyebrows suspiciously, and he could see she was masking a look of complete bewilderment. "I'm sorry." He forced. "This is too soon."

"I don't quite understand exactly what's going on here." Hermione smiled uncertainly.

"Just forget it." Draco said, wishing he hadn't said anything. Wishing he'd just let her walk away.

He stuck his hands deep into his pockets and began to walk swiftly away, leaving her alone beneath the tree.

"What in Merlin's name just happened." Hermione pondered, crouching down in the shade of the braches. The morning was crisp, and she suspected the first snow may fall sometime in the next few days.

Everything about their talk had been wrong. Nothing Draco said seemed to match with the impressions he was giving her and it was annoying her. How dare he mess with her head like this?

It was a while before she traced his steps back towards the castle, and she was still no clearer on exactly what had passed between them.

Had it been genuine? What he had said, or was it just an accident? Another slip of the tongue which he hadn't known how to get out of without offending her?

None of it made any sense.

"He can't like me." She murmured. "This will be some silly game or he's been inhaling far too many fumes in the potions room…"

But what if he did like her? What then? She couldn't shake the idea that that might be alright with her. There was no way the feeling was mutual, but what harm could he be?

* * *

"So where have you been all morning, oh Lover-of-the-Big-Tree." Blaise cicled Draco as he attempted to descend the stairs to his bedroom. "We saw you down there with her. Gotta be said, mate, I'm not looking forward to losing 100 galleons, but watching you suffer like this is really worth every penny."

Draco forced a smirk, it's feeling so familiar it hardly required any effort at all. "So Pansy's attempts to make you give it up didn't work I see."

Blaise stopped his prancing, a blush of guilt crossed over him as he averted his eyes from Draco's. "Mate, about that, I know she's like your girl and everything, but the girl jumped me and…"

"It's fine." Draco cut in shortly. "I have little use for a slut like her anyway."

"Little use… Draco… you do know what use the rest of us find for sluts like her don't you?" Blaise grinned.

"There are others." Draco returned Blaise's grin evilly, though he was numb inside.

Blaise laughed appreciatively. "Pansy will be crushed."

Together they entered their room and crashed down on their beds. "So about the mudblood girl…" Draco had never noticed it before but the word "mudblood" didn't sound as cruel coming from Blaise's lips. It was almost as though it's true meaning as an insult had never really occurred to him, thus meaning it lost all impact. "How long before you can get her in the sack you reckon?"

Draco could tell Blaise meant it as a joke, like he'd even consider actually riding the girl, and yet, though he would never admit it, the idea didn't seem anything like as repulsive as it used to.

"Christmas easily." He said. "Been making leaps and bounds today, my friend. Leaps and bounds."

* * *

_It's a little-un, purely to ease you back into what's going on. I have ages before exams (well 3 months) so I should hopefully have finished this by then. _

_PLEASE REVIEW! And read my new fic, because no1s reviewing and it's upsetting me!_

_JustADoll_

_xxx_


	8. Chapter 7

__

My sister, who I share a room with, just laughed in her sleep and it thoroughly creeped me out… my spellchecker's telling me I spelt "creeped" wrong. I know it's not technically a word but this spellchecker has no issues with the words "Dumbledore" or "Gryffindor" so I want to know what's going on.

I keep meaning to renew my disclaimer but forgetting so here it is, at last: my disclaimer. I am not JK Rowling, god knows I wish I as, but I am not, therefore I own nothing here except my own little quirky plot line.

* * *

He was avoiding her, she could tell. It had been days since he had admitted his… feelings for her and so far they hadn't even made eye contact. Hermione couldn't help but glance over at the Slytherin table, but he refused to meet her gaze.

* * *

Pansy leant over the table, gathering her boys in conspiratorially. "She's staring at you again, Drakie." She whimpered. The boy's shouted in appreciation, clapping Draco heartily on the back. He smirked convincingly, enough to satisfy them.

* * *

"What do you suppose a man like him thinks about?" Hermione mused to Ginny.

She sipped from her pumpkin juice and turned to see where Hermione was looking. "Well, my best guess would be sex, how hot he is, sex, being evil and sex. Why do you ask."

Hermione sighed. "So much sex. Do you really think that's all that's on his mind?"

"I did give other thoughts, but that was the main one. I don't know and, more importantly, why do you care?" Ginny peered at her suspiciously, though, being as hormonal as the next teenage girl, her interest was purely in her friends thoughts.

Hermione shrugged. "Just wondering about something he said to me the other day that didn't really make much sense." She paused. "I suppose I know exactly what it was that he said, just… whether he meant it or not, or whether he even intended to say it."

Ginny looked at her blankly. "I'm don't really go a bundle on the cryptic clues, so if you want my advise I suggest you give that to me again with the blanks filled in."

So Hermione proceeded to recount her brief but confusing meeting with Malfoy almost a week before, enjoying the reaction her scandalous affair received from Ginny. When she'd finished her story she waited for some spark of wisdom, some decisive note some answer.

"What a weirdo." Was all she got.

"What do you mean?"

"I never expected Draco Malfoy to be anything less than a silky smooth operator but you've clearly got him in a bit of a state." Ginny laughed at the stunned look on her, frankly, quite gorgeous friend's face. "Good for you. He seems a tough nut to crack, that one."

Hermione's mouth hung open. "He's a tough nut to crack because he's a muggle-hating deatheater, Ginny! Why would he even look at me?"

"Same reason you're looking at him, pure teenage lust."

"I very much doubt that somehow."

"And yet you're not denying you've been looking." Hermione pondered this. Perhaps Ginny was right, perhaps he was just looking for a quick way in. It fit. The sudden interest, the determined small talk, the confused admittance of wanting to be more than "just friends".

"I think I need to talk to him."

"I think that's a very good idea."

* * *

The opportunity didn't arise until the next day, a double advanced potions lesson meaning that she and Draco were left as good as alone at the front table for two and a half hours.

The first fifteen minutes passed by in silence as they took note of what Snape required of them in the lesson, then together they headed to the store-cupboard to collect their ingredients. Hermione was unaware of the few other students who had achieved the necessary grades to take the class, all she could concentrate on was the conversation she was about to initiate.

"Malfoy," She began, shrinking back in surprise when he looked up with the biggest smile on his face she'd ever seen.

"Yes?" He asked cheerfully.

She gaped at him. It wasn't exactly the reaction she'd expected. She suddenly became very conscious of the others around her, watching her, waiting for her response. "Um… Could I speak with you later?" She heard a low wolf whistle issue from behind her and ignored it.

"Why not now?" He asked, and she got the faint impression that he really was avoiding her, and a private talk was exactly what he did not want.

"Because here we run the risk of being over heard, and I only have your reputation in mind when I ask that it might be better to do it elsewhere." She told him calmly, keeping her voice as quiet as possible, she could almost feel the ears pricking around her in frustration.

Draco perfect smile cracked and he straightened up. "Sure, sure we can do it later. What ever you're most comfortable with." Hermione looked at him confusedly. "I look forward to it." The Slytherins behind them burst into a gale of guffaws.

The class dragged by after that. The solemnity draught they were making was just as dull as the name suggested, and Hermione found herself yearning for the bell to ring.

* * *

"What was that all about?" She asked, catching Draco as he flew down the corridor, for once, alone. He stopped abruptly, clearing having not noticed she was there, and sighed heavily. She had never seen him look so distressed and, crazy though it was, the sight made her want to do nothing more than put her arms around him and assure him that everything was going to be alright.

He caught her gazing at him and shifted self-consciously. "I'm sorry, it's just… you know, my friends… they wouldn't really approve of us actually speaking so I just shifted it around to make it look like something crude. I'm sorry, it was insensitive of me." His curtness made her uncomfortable.

"That's… alright. Like I said before, I know you have a reputation to uphold but you're friends didn't seem to mind you talking with me previously."

"Yes, but if they knew were having… proper talks, they would think it'd had got too far." He shrugged, unsatisfied by his explanation but not knowing what else he could say. "So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Would you prefer to go somewhere private?" She asked, arching her eyebrows, knowing the conversation would be far more comfortable if neither of them was constantly waiting to be caught.

He smiled weakly, nothing like the bold false smile she had seen in potions. "Where are you thinking?"

* * *

The Headboy and girls' office was situated on the fourth floor and was not widely known amongst the students. Even Hermione herself had only visited a handful of time to study when she could find peace nowhere else. It was spacious, but strangely empty, it had no cosiness about it, no feel at all.

There were two desks inside and Hermione seated herself behind hers. Draco, not knowing what to do with himself, not wanting to sit behind the other because it would make the conversation even more awkward than it already was, remained standing.

Hermione pointed her wand at the floor before him and silently charmed a chair into existence. He sat down, and she pulled her own chair around to the front of her desk and sat facing him.

"I wanted to talk to you about what you said to me the other day beneath the tree." She was looking at him sternly, much like the many teachers who had told Draco off at some point or other in his school career. "I want to know what exactly you meant by it."

He shrugged, here was his chance. His chance to take a great leap forwards in winning the bet. And yet… something was holding him back. Some little part of brain was niggling at him that he was doing this for all the wrong reasons. He'd come to know her, to accept her over the past few weeks, and to exploit her in such a way, to trick her, now felt very wrong.

But would dating her really be such a bad thing? He suddenly realised that he was coming to accept exactly what he'd been refraining from admitting. He genuinely liked her. He looked her over inconspicuously, taking in her hair, no longer frizzy, but curly in a messy sort of way. He face, perfectly structured, with smooth features set in golden skin. He looked down her front to her breasts, he could hardly complain there. Not too small, but not so big as to be intimidating, not like Pansy, whose breasts had always been something of a fear of his. Hermione was slight, with a small waist and toned legs.

Why should he mind being with her?

It was the blood that ran through her. The stark red liquid he had always imagined to be far darker than his own, far thicker, running through her like treacle, though his rational mind knew that was not true. Prejudice was all that was holding him back. And, he supposed, now, a sense of moral duty to her. He could foresee the disastrous outcome if he were to admit his "feelings" without truly meaning them and that was not what he wanted, but what if he did mean them? Nothing bad could come of that, surely.

"Hermione, I meant that I like you." Her name sounding strange falling from his lips like that. He knew he's addressed her in the same way before, but now it was different, profound almost.

She sat in silence and he desperately tried to read her. She finally looked her, confusion riddling her face. Her question was one he hadn't been expecting. "Why?"

"Ah… I guess, because I can talk to you. You seem to understand where I'm coming from most of the time. You're realistic, you know your boundaries, unlike all the other girls I've liked." He paused, noticing she was barely listening. "You are friendly to me when you really have no obligation to be. You are pretty and aren't flaunting it around for the whole world to see, again, like all the other girls I've dated."

"So you're saying I'm boring and prudish." She raised an eyebrow, and he couldn't for the life of him tell if she was joking or not.

"No." He said. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all. I'm saying you're not insecure enough to pretend to be something you're not, and that's the most admirable quality a person can have, I think."

"Do you pretend to be something you're not?" She asked curiously.

"Of course I do. You see me do it every day. You witnessed it in potions earlier. I'm a victim of prejudice, Hermione. Just as you were as far I as I was concerned, which is the only reason I didn't get to know you sooner."

Hermione stared at him. "Malfoy, you created those prejudices. I'm a victim of you and yours."

"It's different now." He murmured, not denying that she was perfectly correct. "I can't explain it, but somehow it is different."

"Why did you even bother trying to talk to me at the start of this year?"

He considered telling her. Admitting everything just to get him out of this situation, but he couldn't. The betrayal of his friends, hell, the loss of his pride, would be all too much. The hundred galleons seemed unimportant no more, but while she remained undecided on his fate, there was no way he was giving the game away.

"Because… it seemed like time to make amends. Only one year left and all that. I don't want to leave on bad terms."

"You're a death eater. Anywhere you go, you leave on bad terms."

"Hermione, just forget it, ok. I can't explain it."

She stood up, pushing her chair back around her desk. Now she was the one refusing to meet his gaze.

"I think we should go now, it's nearly dinner."

She lead the way out of the office, striding away fast, her head buzzing with the conversation she had just had. His words had made no sense to her and yet… and yet…

* * *

_Please review, it's lovely hearing from you all again!_

_JustADoll_

_xxx_


	9. Chapter 8

_Tiny little chapter, but something happens! Finally. _

He had never hated her as much as he had Potter and Weasley. Whilst they had always been pompous and arrogant in a way that would annoy, as far as Draco was concerned, any sane human being, Hermione was pompous and arrogant, but had every reason to be. She was clever to the point of genius, yet, as far as he knew, fairly modest about it, always willing to help, but never deliberately showing off.

She was not tall, not leggy, but almost painfully normal, and yet there was something so striking about that he now found himself struggling to keep mobile when he passed her in the corridor.

His first thought was that it was her hair, which was still the bushy mass it had always been, but soft curls fell from it and they caught the light, making her hair look luscious and desirable. It may also have been her face. She had smooth features, which were a harsh contradiction to his own sharp, pointed nose and eyes. Her lips were a soft pink, and at first he'd thought she wore makeup, but on closer inspection he could find no trace.

Ever since they'd spoken, and he'd finally accepted that this bet was becoming less and less important in his quest to make her love him, he was unable to take his eyes off her. He would find himself glancing over at her at the breakfast table, watching her in lessons. It was like an illness.

She plagued his mind as he lay in bed at night. Blaise didn't help. He'd instantly tuned in on the fact that his friend's mind was elsewhere and seemed to be doing his best to let him dwell.

Hermione appeared to be ignoring him. Every time she caught him looking at her she'd avert her eyes, quickly starting up a conversation with Potter or another of those Gryffindors. He didn't know whether he should take it as a good sign or not. It may have been that she was feeling exactly the same way, doing her best to hide it, just as he was half-heartedly attempting to do. Of course, the alternative was that she was feeling nothing of the sort, and the unwanted attention was unnerving her.

There was no time to confront her, as she was doing her best to avoid him, running from class at the end of Potions, or dashing past him in the corridors. Several times he'd casually strolled past the Heads' office, just to see if she was inside, but she never was.

The worst thing about it was he had nobody to talk to. He was determined to not lose face but admitting the dare had turned into something much more serious in front of his friends, but without a second opinion, he was at a loss at what to do.

His eyes sought her out in the Great Hall, just as the plates were clearing at the end of supper. She was sat with her back to him, as she'd been doing a lot recently, and as the light bounced off her hair he could tell that she was laughing. At what? Him? Was she relating their sorry tale to her friends and basking in the foolish laughter that surrounded her?

No.

He was being ridiculous. She wouldn't do that. That was the sort of thing he expected from Pansy, but not Hermione. The hall steadily emptied as students hurried back to their dormitories to sleep, as it was Halloween the next day, which meant there would be celebrations late into the night.

He followed her as she left. She was alone, having been sat leafing through books long after her friends had left her. Even as she walked she had only one eye on where she was going, the other glued to the text she held up before her.

Draco felt like a stalker as he glided along behind her.

"Hermione." He said, finally.

She jumped, stopping short and almost dropping her book. "Draco! Please don't ever do that again!"

"I'm sorry." He felt a smirk spreading across his face and quickly stopped it. The smirk had been inherited from his father, it seemed to be a natural reaction that, nine times out of ten, was out of his control. "I didn't mean to startle you, I just wanted to talk."

She sighed, shifting her book back into her bag. "These talks we keep having aren't getting you anywhere, Draco. I don't know what's going on, but I want to trust you and you're making it very difficult."

"You can trust me." He sat down on the floor, leaning against the cold stone wall and pulled her down beside him. "I think you can, anyway."

"That's not saying much" She muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

"I know. But what happened is that on the train here, Blaise and I…" He couldn't tell her. It could make everything better, but it could also destroy all the progress he'd made with her so far. He cleared his throat. "Never mind that."

She was looking at him, and for once there was no suspicion in her eyes, just questioning curiosity.

"You've been avoiding me." Draco whispered, startled to feel colour springing to his cheeks. Was he embarrassed? He cleared his throat again, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Yes. I have." She confirmed, unabashed. "To be honest, I didn't know what to think and thought it best if I just kept my distance.

"Hermione," He couldn't believe he was going to say it. "I think I like you."

* * *

_Yeah, so, please forgive me the tiny chapter, the next is already half written so… _

_Please review!_

_JustADoll_

_xxx_


	10. Chapter 9

_Sorry about the break. Had uni stuff to sort out. I have now officially applied - scary stuff! I read the whole Twilight Saga last week - my god, it was amazing. Highly recommend it if you haven't read it already. I'm a Team Edward-er all the way. Anyway…_

* * *

"Please say something." Draco was growing impatient, having been stood watching her expression change from curiosity to confusion at an appallingly slow rate. "I know it's wrong, and I don't expect you feel the same at all, but I thought it would just make things easier if this was out in the open."

Hermione face twisted into a grin that was not quite sincere. "You like me?" He could hear the disbelief far more plainly than he could the words.

"As hard as it is for us both to believe, I'm afraid it is the truth."

"So you meant it. What you said under the tree, about not wanting to be only friends?" Realization that there may be some truth behind his admittance seemed to be dawning.

"Every word." He leant towards her, struggling to not enjoy being so close to her. He'd never noticed her scent before, how enticing she was, and how electrical shocks shot through him when he came close to touching her.

She didn't back away, fully aware that any girl would kill to be in her shoes at that very moment. "I don't know how I feel about this." She whispered as he drew even closer to her till they were barely millimetres apart. Her head was spinning, and the close proximity wasn't helping to clear it. On the one hand, he was the enemy. Harry and Ron would be distraught and disgusted if anything happened, and she still had no guarantee this was not a trap. But on the other… "I think I like you too."

A wide, genuine grin spread over his face as he looked down at her. It never failed to shock her how different it was, how much more beautiful he suddenly looked. "I don't know if we should do anything about it though." She sighed, drawing back.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," She leant against the wall, staring pointedly down at her shoes to avoid his penetrating gaze. "No one would be happy about it if anything happened, you know that as well as I do."

"I'd be happy about it." He closed in on her again, but she slid out under his arms.

"That's not the point." She smirked at him in a manner he almost envied. "It would never work."

"Then we keep it secret." He suggested, shrugging. The bet that had pointed him in Hermione's direction suddenly seeming completely unimportant.

"You really think that would work?" She asked, unsure.

"Why not? People do it all the time, don't they?" He assured her, grinning. "You know you'll regret it later if you say no now." He pointed out. "When you see me with some girl and she's not you, you'll wish you had a time-turner…"

Draco's cocky expression was met by Hermione's stony glare. "I'm going off you more and more by the second." She muttered darkly.

He laughed. "I'm sorry. I know this is serious." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, more serious than I'm making it out to be."

"Emotions gone awry." She agreed.

"Damn those emotions."

"Indeed." She turned and headed down the corridor. He followed.

"So," He slung an arm casually around her shoulders, and fought the urge to laugh when he felt her stiffen beneath him. "Want to go to the Halloween celebrations with me tomorrow?"

She sighed. "Draco, what did we _just_ agree?"

He laughed. "We don't have to be obvious about it. People know we're on speaking terms, don't they? That's all they need to be aware of."

"So we just go and pretend everything is normal?"

"Sure." He shrugged. "But we'll both know differently." She fitted so neatly under his arm as they walked together, aware the hour dictated they part soon. "So will you be my date?"

"Yes." She smiled. "I'll be your date."

* * *

Finding an outfit for her "date" that evening was turning out to be one of the most energy consuming tasks of Hermione's life. Harry and Ron watched in wonder as she paraded out in front of them in a wide series of outfits, demanding their opinion on each one. Oblivious to the purpose of this ordeal, they chose simply not to question it, but, typically, their opinions were less than helpful.

"It's nice." Harry mumbled, vaguely, his eyes wondering desperately around the room.

"Ron?" Hermione turned to him.

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. It's a dress, not exactly my specialist subject."

"You stare at enough girls wearing them!" Hermione rounded on him. "Would you stare at me if I was wearing this?"

"Of course not!"

"Why not?" She demanded, glaring at him, her eyes slightly wild. "What's wrong with me in this dress?"

"Nothing! I only mean…" Ron slumped down. "I'm so confused."

Thankfully for Ron, the portrait hole swung open to reveal Ginny clambering through. She caught sight of Hermione and rushed towards her. "Oh, Hermione, you look gorgeous!" She gushed. "What's the special occasion?"

Hermione readied herself with her prepared reasoning. "Well, I'm head girl this year. I feel I need to show I've put in some effort for the first school event of the year."

Ginny nodded, apparently being taken in by every word Hermione said. "Well, I think you look lovely." She told her. "Maybe I should put in some effort…" She wondered aloud.

"Maybe you should." Hermione agreed, pleased at having gotten away with her lie.

"You know, I think I will. I got a new dress over the summer and haven't had a chance to wear it yet. What a good idea." And she sped upstairs.

Ron sighed heavily. "This isn't going to turn into some sort of formal event now, is it?"

Harry elbowed him playfully. "Better get the dress robes out."

Ron groaned. "Mum got me some new ones. It won't be so bad." He looked up at Hermione, suspiciously. "I don't really have to wear my dress robes, do I?" He asked.

She grinned. "Why not? Spread the word. Let's make this a formal occasion. Spend our last year here in style."

* * *

"Fancy seeing you here." Draco breathed in Hermione's ear as he swept past her, brushing a hand across her back as headed towards his fellow Slytherins. "I'll come and find you later."

Ron tutted in disgust. "What's Malfoy hanging around for? You'd have thought he'd have some first year to taunt of something."

Hermione turned away, trying desperately to hide her flushed face. "Who knows." She answered dully.

She couldn't concentrate on conversation. Couldn't take in what people were saying to her, and spent much of the evening in a distracted daze. She only had eyes for Draco, and by the way their eyes kept meeting, she could only guess her was having the same problems.

What an odd situation it is, she mused. Infatuated by her worst enemy, one of the ones who had sought only to destroy her and her kind. And yet, somehow, it felt so natural, so perfectly ordinary, to be attracted to a man she saw as an equal.

The room was filled with beautiful looking people. The word of the usually casual Halloween celebrations becoming a particularly dressy occasion had spread like wild fire, even reaching the ears of the teachers by the looks of things, and Hermione sat in wonder at how, even with all these gorgeous girls around him, Draco only had eyes for her.

The dancing began. Though it was nothing on the Yule Ball of three years before, the Halloween celebrations were reminiscent of that evening, and all the students seemed to be enjoying it. Hermione allowed herself to be pulled to her feet by Dean Thomas, who finally seemed to be getting over his crush. They danced happily, until the music changed, and Hermione felt herself being swung around to face a new partner.

"Isn't this taking it a bit too far. People are going to realise something is going on." She murmured, hands on Draco's chest as they swayed together.

"Why should this be anything more than an obligatory dance? You are head girl and I am a prefect, it's practically our duty to engage in this." Draco justified, smirking at her worried expression. "Relax. They'd never believe the truth anyway."

She did relax, allowing a smile to pass over her face as she breathed him in like a drug, loving every second. "So what exactly is the truth, Malfoy?" She asked, curiously.

"That's you're my girlfriend." She stiffened. "You are my girlfriend now, aren't you. Granger?" He looked down at her, concern shooting through his silvery eyes.

"Yes." She replied. "Yes, I guess I am. Sorry. It just startled me to hear it."

"Well, get used to it." He breathed. "Because I think we may be onto something here, Granger."

* * *

_Horray! God, I'm a romantic! _

_Please Review! _

_JustADoll_

_xxx_


	11. Chapter 10

_Phido Strauss is a made up name, made up name, made up name, Phido Strauss is a made up name, dow de do da day. (To be sung to a tune mixed between Campdown Races and the old "I know a song that'll get on your nerves" riff.) _

_If you think their relationship's moving a bit too fast… well… many are faster. She isn't losing all her morals just yet though, don't worry. _

* * *

Harry couldn't help but notice that Hermione seemed to be spending far too many dances in Malfoy's arms. At first he dismissed it, knowing that Hermione was probably hating it after their falling out, but then he noticed the way Malfoy leant in a bit too close to talk to her, breathing in her ear. Normally this would have caused Harry to lunge at Malfoy, ramming his wand down his throat, but Hermione was smiling, giggling, enjoying being with the slime ball.

He shuffled over to stand beside Ron who was unsuccessfully trying to chat up Parvati Patil who stood looking unimpressed, one eyebrow raised at Ron's fantastical claims.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the England team will have booked me by the end of this year." Ron cracked his knuckles in what Harry supposed he thought a manly fashion. "We've already been in negotiations ever since Phido Strauss came to that match against Slytherin last year, and James Matthews has been on poor form as keeper for months now." Parvati rolled her eyes, clearly not taken in by Ron's words, and turned away.

"Nice try, mate." Harry murmured, slapping his friend sympathetically on the back. "I really thought she was falling for it then."

Ron sighed. "It was worth a shot." He grinned. "What about you, been chatting to anyone nice?"

"No, but listen, haven't you noticed Hermione this evening?"

Ron raised an eyebrow in mock confusion. "Uh, well she's not really my cup of tea, mate, but if you're asking my approval…"

"I don't mean like that. She's been dancing with Malfoy nearly all evening."

"So what? She can't be enjoying it. Just leave her to her duty. I mean, look," he pointed across the room. "Macmillan's over there dancing with Elouise Midgen. They must have been told to try and dance with other people or something."

Harry considered this. "But she's been dancing with him for about three dances now, and look," they both swung around to look the other way. "she's smiling and laughing at everything he says."

Ron laughed. "Oh, Harry, come on. Hermione hates Malfoy after that whole "betrayal of trust" thing he pulled on her."

"Well it doesn't look that way to me." Harry huffed.

* * *

"You're a good date." Draco whispered as they swayed. "But I think your friends are starting to notice something's going on."

Hermione looked over his shoulder to see Harry stood glaring at them, arms folded. She sighed. "Why aren't your friends more bothered?" She asked, noticing how, rather than taking the betrayed stance Harry had adopted, Blaise and Nott and the rest were nudging each other boyishly and kept glancing over in their direction.

"Um, they're just a bit more forgiving than Potter and Weasley are apparently" He avoided looking into her eyes until the moment had passed. "I think we have been dancing too long though. It's passed obligation now." He smiled at her one last time, and swung her around to be caught in the arms of Harry.

He held her far further away than Draco had done, so their dancing felt far more formal. "So what was that about?" He asked her.

Hermione shrugged, feigning confusion at his suggestion. "Nothing." He raised an eyebrow at her. "He's a prefect, I'm head girl, it's a duty."

"Not one I've ever encountered before." Harry grumbled. He twirled her round, making her giggle. "You haven't been this happy in ages." He mused. "I like to think it's my amazing dancing technique, but something's suggesting otherwise."

"No, Harry, it's definitely your dancing." Hermione laughed, looking down at his shuffling feet. "Don't worry about me." She told him confidently.

* * *

A hand tugged at her as she left the Great Hall alone, and pulled her into an empty classroom.

"Nice evening?" Draco stood before her, studying his nails in what she guessed he though a nonchalant manner.

She straightened out her dress. "Very nice thank you, even though my date abandoned me and left me to the clutches of another man." Draco strode over to her and before she knew what was happening, had bent in to kiss her. His lips were far warmer than she'd ever have expected, and smooth too. It was only a short, too short, time until he broke away, looking down at her.

"Well your date must have been a prat, doing that to you, but I'm sure he's very sorry." She reached up this time, sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him down until their lips met. She felt his tongue dart across her lips and shivered with the sensation.

"He's making it up to me." She breathed.

Draco laughed. "I'm sorry about that, Granger, but you know it was the right thing to do."

"Granger? Don't you think you're in a better position than anyone to call me by my first name now?"

"I'm sorry." He wrapped his arms around her, smiling a real smile, the joy in which could only be reflected in the one she shone back. "Force of habit."

Hermione wriggled out of his arms and sprang to sit on one of the desks. "I like this, you know." She admitted. "Far more so than I thought I would. It was all so wrong in principal…"

"But so right in practise." He finished for her, moving to sit beside her. "So you reckon it could work?"

She shrugged. "I don't see why not, unless…"

"Unless… what?"

"Unless your reputation is all true and I've only got about a week of your time before you get bored and find someone else." Hermione gushed.

Draco sighed. "Well, I guess the reputation is true, but only because I've never been in a proper, official relationship before, not what I'd class a relationship, anyway. Experience suggests that men and women have completely different ideas of how to define "Being in a relationship"."

"So, is this what you'd call an official relationship?" She asked, almost afraid of the answer.

He grinned at her, as though amused by her even needing to ask. "Of course. I called you my girlfriend, didn't I? I don't do that to just anyone, you know."

"Yay, I'm special!" She teased.

"In all senses of the word." He agreed.

She shoved him off the desk.

* * *

So that was how life was now. And, for the first time since discovering she was a witch and the stresses of life with Harry potter began, Hermione felt truly at ease. Her meetings with Draco were erratic. Mostly centralising around the Advanced Potions lessons. He had moved to sit beside her permanently, and Hermione had found than an unexpected perk of this was that she had become almost immune to Snape. He simply refused to acknowledge her in anything but a civil manner. How strange.

Outside of potions, their meetings were similar to that first one after the Halloween Ball. The thrill of potential discovery was so appealing that Hermione's stomach churned with excitement whenever she walked down a corridor alone.

She still caught Harry eyeing her suspiciously, but always put it to the back of her mind, reminding herself that she was doing nothing wrong, and that it was none of Harry's business what she did in her free time.

Ron, to her surprise, didn't seem to suspect anything, even though she was sure Harry must have let him in on his own thoughts about Hermione's change in mood. He laughed off any insinuation Harry made, enquiring about Hermione's whereabouts when she disappeared for hours at a time, and, for some reason, couldn't seem to care less. She was almost offended.

* * *

"So… how was Charms?" Draco breathed as he planted kisses down her neck.

She sighed happily. "Fine. Boring. Learnt about the many variations of wand movement when producing a summoning charm."

Draco laughed. "I do love it when you talk dirty to me." She joined in the laughter. "So, how are Potter and Weaselbee?" He asked, mocking interest.

"They're fine." Hermione humoured him, knowing what he was doing. Only a week before she had pointed out that they didn't talk very much, and all good relationships were based on good communication. "Harry still won't get off my back, and Ron really doesn't seem to care, so a complete role reversal in that camp."

"And you're fine with that?"

"Sure. It's irritating, I grant you, but they'll get used to my not being around so much soon enough."

"And you're not worried I may genuinely be stealing you away from them until you've lost all contact with them, and only then will I make my move and feed you to the Dark Lord?"

"Draco, that's not funny."

"It is if you have a particularly dark and cynical sense of humour."

"If you say so."

* * *

_Bit of a random place to leave it, I know, but I had to cut it somewhere. Ta for the reviews. This chapter is especially for bookworm708 who reviewed a lot and requested I get a move on with updating. _

_Hope you're getting a feel for where this is going cos I'm not. Yet. I will. _

_Please review_

_JustADoll_

_xxx_


	12. Chapter 11

_I swear people don't read these little notes I write, explaining my absences etcetera, but I put them in to back up my point when I get reviews demanding to know why my chapters are short and where I was been. _

_Basically, since the last chapter was posted, I officially applied to university, got offers from my 2 favourite universities, passed my driving test, completed 2 sets of coursework, read 18 books and watched about 46 films… I been busy, mate! _

* * *

It was very difficult not to doubt him. The dark jokes that crept into conversation occasionally that threw the mood completely, the threatening body language he used when annoyed, and the ever present mark on his arm made it very difficult for Hermione to forget that Draco _was_ a Deatheater.

His Dark Mark seemed to be bothering him far more just recently than she'd ever noticed before. He itched it almost constantly, or else ran his fingers across it without even seeming to realise he was doing so. It was guilt, she supposed. He was betraying everything he had ever known even by speaking to her with civility, let alone touching her… kissing her.

He never admitted it to her, but Hermione could sense that he was worried. Counting down the minutes until his father found out, or one his "friends" let slip, and he became number one of the Dark Lord's hit list.

"Draco, stop that." Hermione quipped wearily, catching Draco scratching at his forearm. "What are you trying to do, rip it off?"

He sighed heavily, pulling up the sleeve of his robes to reveal the reddened patch of skin that surrounded the awful mark. "Maybe." He winced as Hermione reached across her desk in the heads' office to touch the sore skin tentatively. "The only other option appears to be slicing my arm off, but I'm not really sure that's the right route to take."

She looked into his eyes, concern riddling her soft features. "You should know I'm meant to be reporting any Deatheater activity in the student body to Dumbledore. Just try to stay out of trouble. I know you will, but if you or any of your…"

"Hermione, I'd thought you'd know me better than that by now." He cut in. "'Deatheater activity' isn't exactly top of my list of priorities right now."

"You've never let that stop you before." She murmured, quiet enough so that he only just caught her words.

"Yes, well, now I'm with you." His face softened as he laced his fingers with hers. "And you don't like it, with every reason, and so I'm not going to involve myself."

She glowed with the words of his care for her, but her eyes remained suspicious. "And what if you weren't with me? What would you be doing then?"

"A lot less homework." He smirked. She raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. "I don't know. Plotting to kill Potter or kidnap you, or shave Weasley's fiery head, or all of them, depending on how I was feeling."

Hermione couldn't help but giggle, though she knew it was inappropriate. "Are you serious? That's really what you'd be doing if I wasn't around?" She withdrew her hands across the desk.

He shrugged. "Well, yes. As you've already gracefully pointed out, Hermione, I'm a Deatheater. That sort of thing is basically what we do with our free time."

"Do you…" Hermione cleared her throat. "Do you enjoy it?" She asked, emotionlessly.

Draco squinted at her, desperately trying to decide whether to tell the truth or to lie. "If I said… I can't be sure either way, would you condemn me for it?"

She looked disappointed, but thankfully reached across and ran a finger along the heart line of his palm. "I suppose it would be unfair of me if I did." He could see she was trying to understand but was struggling. "I suppose… it's how you've been brought up, isn't it? What you're used to. I guess it's hard to escape such a sense of duty."

Draco nodded, glad she was unable to accept his answer so well. "Anyway, Miss Granger, I do believe it's time for lunch." He glided around the desk and politely helped her to her feet as she giggled at the unnecessary gesture.

* * *

Harry Potter was unhappy. It was bad enough that he should hardly see one of his best friends anymore, but now he saw that it was with _him_ she had been choosing to spend her time instead. Why? What was she up to? He guessed it had something to do with the task Dumbledore had set for her and Ernie at the start of the year. She must be prizing information out of Malfoy, but how could she stand to be with him so long?

He watched as they exchanged a smile before parting way to head towards their separate tables and turned to scowl at his plate of mashed potato as Hermione took the seat next to his. Harry could almost feel her grinning beside him as she began to chatter across the table to Ginny about scheduling a trip to Hogsmeade in order to get some Christmas shopping done.

Ron slid down on Harry's other side and Harry turned to see that he too was grinning maniacally.

"Guess what I heard!" He was quite clearly ecstatic with himself about something. Harry indicated that he should continue. "Malfoy got cheated on." Harry couldn't help but notice that Hermione stop short mid-sentence. "Can you believe it! You know he was shagging Parkinson? Well, just heard from Graham Pritchard, you know, that Slytherin who's not all that bad, that she had a thing with Zabini, and now the whole things off!"

Harry almost laughed, but stopped himself when he noticed Hermione's torn expression.

He cleared his throat instead, and bit his lip as Ron's laughter rang out awkwardly across the table of silent Gryffindors.

Hermione stood up. "I've got homework I should be doing." She murmured, and walked away.

Ron's laughter died away and he looked comically around him at the small crowd looking at him blankly. "What's wrong with her?"

Harry sighed. "I wish I knew."

* * *

"I just heard a rumour about you." Draco stopped short, and turned to see who had spoken. A book faced him. He pushed the book down to find Hermione, head on one side, smiling satisfactorily.

"Nothing bad I hope." He grinned, pulling out the seat opposite her and sliding into it.

She put the book down. "Well, actually, it sort of was. Apparently you've been cheated on."

He frowned at her, confused. "But no one even knows…"

"Not by me." Hermione laughed. "By Pansy."

Draco laughed, running his hands through his hair in mock relief. "Was it with Blaise by any chance?"

"I don't know." Hermione replied, giggling along with him. "I didn't exactly stick around to hear the details."

"Well, I know for a fact she's cheated on me with Blaise because I watched it getting started."

Hermione winced in disgust. "Lovely."

Draco got up and moved around the table to help her put her books back in her bag and they left the library. It was a Saturday, and the corridors were busy so they were forced to walk metres apart, Draco leading, whilst Hermione tailed behind, struggling with her heavy bag.

Draco led the way to the head's office, where he took his usual seat before her desk. A few seconds later, she joined him.

"So what's this meeting in aid of?" She sat down opposite him, peering at him quizzically. It was unusual for them to be in here twice in one week, let alone twice in one day.

Draco straightened up and sighed wearily. Hermione couldn't help but dread what was coming. "I want to tell Blaise about us."

"What?"

"About you and me. I need to tell someone. Blaise is the ideal candidate."

Hermione was stunned at this anticlimax of a request from him, she'd been expecting something far more radical.

"Will he not tell, do you think?"

Draco shrugged. "Why would he? To him we're no more interesting than a pair of salamanders who have decided to get it on."

"Well sure, why not then."

"Excellent. I'll go and find him now."

"I think that's a very good idea."

* * *

"Hey, Zabini" Blaise swung around to find Draco leaning nonchalantly against their dormitory wall. "I think you owe me some money."

* * *

_This… kind of doesn't make much sense, this chapter… It is going somewhere though, I promise. _

_The bit with Hermione and Draco:_

"_Well sure, why not then." _

"_Excellent. I'll go and find him now." _

"_I think that's a very good idea." _

_Is soooo English, but it is exactly what we do (I swear, I'm one of them). Whenever faced with something surprising or unexpected, we suddenly become very eloquent and proper!_

_Please review (and ignore my ramblings)_

_JustADoll_

_xxx_


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